A new Drinker

The TarRaCe, Evening

The TarRaCe harbors a small throng of folk as a light rain pelts the falling night outside. A moment of respite, or dinner, for most. Or perhaps a good round of drinks after what seems to have been an energetic match at the Colosseum.

Waiting at the iron bar is that of a middle aged eldanar man. A grey overcoat dangles off the back of the stool he sits on, the strap of a longsword peeking out over a fold with it. He drums his fingers on the counter, half drank water ignored for the time being. Pensive, as he's scanning over what drinks are available. As well as looking around for a flashy makari on occasion. He murmurs under his breath to himself, 'Probably going to regret this tomorrow.'

Probably. Most likely.

The old Guard did not have to wait for too long to see a flash of a flashy Makari - though this one was simply boasting his prowess at the latest fight, speaking in the guttural tongue of his Kin. Something about silver is being mentioned.

In a less flashy fashion, a smaller makari slides around the counter and leans on it, looking at Warrick. "And how can the TarRaCe serve today, Soldier?" Aelwyn rumbles with a grin playing at around his lips, already teetering towards his usual macabre look. It was not lessened much by the ruddy scales, fresh out of the bath, or the white shirt he had folded over his shoulder.

"Hmm?", says the blue-skinned Goblin tending the bar, her ear flicking. As Aelwyn arrives to take Warrick's order, she offers "May I suggest apple cider? It can be cold or hot."

Irshya continues cleaning the bartop, occasionally sliding an ale down the top of the bar. At one point, she fills up a tray with empty glasses, and sets a large wine bottle in the middle.

One of the servers snags it and runs upstairs with it.

Warrick perks as he hears a guttural tongue, him throwing his attention out once more and finding Aelwyn upon him. "... I... didn't know you worked here, just knew you were around here a lot. Was taking you up on that offer," he mentions, gesturing to a seat beside him.

He turns slightly towards the blue-skinned gobber. This patron was one that would come in from occasion over the years. Though, the proprietor knows they tend to not drink, as well as bringing in his daughter to share a meal. Though it seems today he is alone.

Well, not really. "... apple cider is fine. Cold, if you don't mind."

Aelwyn tilts his head back, his lips starting to curl a bit the other way. "Tch, maybe this one will ask how he knew one, but not the other, some day." He flicks his tongue, and taps his finger down near Warrick's hand, tapping at the counter. "Glad to see the skies have not been unkind to him. This one shall serve the first one for free."

The ruddy sith-makar then withdraws and steps around the blue skinned Gobbo, leaning down to quietly rumble at her. "This one will return the apron for the rest of the day?" His tail smoothly moves from underneath it.

The Gobbo pats Aelwyn's arm, "No, you can serve him, sorry for steppin' on your toes." She bumps him with her hip as she hops down, appearing at the end of the bar where a few more patrons have gathered, serving multiple ales to laughter and smiles.

Irshya returns a short time later, however, to settle on the stool beside him. "Care to talk about anything?", she wonders. "You're a man who, in my estimation, has not had drink here, aside from water and other non-alcoholic drinks."

She looks to Aelwyn a moment, before glancing back to Warrick. "To forget, or to remember?"

Warrick raises a brow. "I have approximate knowledge of many things," he answers. "Got in here before the rain picked up too much. And... thanks."

He turns to towards the bar properly, watching the two go back and forth. And then.... the proprietor is beside him! "Observant," he comments, knocking back the last of his water and sliding it away. "Yes and no. I am here to...-" he rolls a hand, looking for a word as he watches Aelwyn briefly. The hand ends up rubbing his temple. "... relax, I suppose. He talked me into it."

Aelwyn looks at Irshya for a moment, then with a brief click of his teeth he gives his head a bit of a shrug and a grin. "Tch, work never ending." But hey! He was working the bar. Without getting sprayed upon. Picking up an apple cider he tilts the bottle down to a glass with ice; sliding it over to Warrick.

"Try not to think too hard on it, Soldier." The draconian says as he puts down the bottle besides the glass and snags off the water one off the counter. "Where this came from, road was ever strange mistress, and moments were too long and too short." He leans against the counter once more. "Though this one is both pleased and surprised Soldier came."

Looking over to Irshya, he cants his head. "Soldier and Sharkie know each other?"

"I know him in the sense that I see him here from time to time, so he is recognizable to me." The wee woman offers up her hand, "Name's Irshya, and I am pleased to introduce myself at last."

An eye is cast Aelwyn's way, "Heh. You want to sit and drink the day away also?", she wonders. "You may, but don't expect sympathy tomorrow if your head is hurting." Fair but strict?

"I've three tidbits of advice for drinking. One, don't drink alone. Two, drink to remember, not to forget. And three? Make sure you drink so much water you have to pee halfway through your sleep. And when you get up to pee, drink more. That'll keep the headache away."

Warrick takes the glass and gives Aelwyn a slight dip of the head in appreciation. Taking a small pull, he lightly shakes his head. "Surprised? I at least like to think if I had some reputation, it was keeping to my word," he huffs. "Regardless, I appreciate the invitation. I am... trying to get out out more."

He nods towards Irshya. "When you live here your entire life, you sort-of know most folks." He clasps the hand offer and gives it a firm shake. "Warrick Retzner. Pleasure."

Pulling away, he rubs at his neck. "I'm aware, Miss Irshya," Warrick says. "I was a Watchman for a long while. If I had a copper for the amount of times I gave that advice out, I'd be living in the nobility district. I appreciate it thought."

Aelwyn spreads his arms at Irshya. "Never drink alone, Sharkie." The Dragoon repeats her words back to her with a slow coiling flick of his tongue, before he pulls off his white shirt and puts it away; near the water bottle with his name on it.

As the boasting of victories real and imagined continues in one of the tables, much to the confusion of the sith-makar stuck inbetween, Aelwyn pulls out a battle for himself and couple of coins, that he briefly lays out and then puts away. "Hmmh, the last this remembers the Soldier was thinking about it." He states, as he leans further against the counter. "What changed his mind? The rain?" He glances towards the door. "The blessing in disguise?"

Irshya springs back into action, hopping off her stool, and over the bar. A few more ales are sent sliding down the bar, and another tray is filled for a party upstairs.

She leans over the bar at the two, lowering her voice.

"What is more interesting, Warrick Retzner, is not that you've decided to get out more... but why? What has caused your change of heart? If that is not too nosy to ask about." She nods slowly, "I did take you for a soldier or someone who knows their way around a blade." Looking to Aelwyn, she nods. "Likely more than the rain. A watchman and rain are old friends."

Warrick blankly watches Aelwyn get himself situated, and to Irshya's pressure before answering with an exasperated sigh. "A daughter and a sister that keep pestering me over the course of several years eventually wears down even the most stalwart of folks."

He nods knowingly to Irhsya. "The rain doesn't bother me anymore, kind of why I lug this coat around everywhere," he mentions, nodding his head towards the grey overcoat.

Aelwyn rumbles. "And that is the power of rain. Slowly, it flicks down the hardest of stones." The ruddy sith-makar flicks his tail up and above him. "But we have not come not to moor on the past and what ifs, this one hopes. Instead," He flicks to a stand. "This one hopes he can carve a bit of a smile on that face." His hand slips down his waist and looks towards Irshya. "Though, Soldier is putting up a brave front."

There is a sudden slam as the group of fighters move onto the next topic of discussion - who tripped who. Ignoring the ruckus, Aelwyn takes his bottle and raises it into the air. "Toast the moment?"

The pool-shark giggles lightly, smiling and showing off a wide array of teeth. A hole exists along the bottom row, slightly marring the grin. "Aw, that is adorable. Two ladies who obviously love you very much. Your daughter is the young lady whom I believe I have seen occasionally dining here with you? And I will guess... a younger sister?"

Irshya eyes Aelwyn a moment. "New friends and old friends.", she says softly.

Warrick frowns despite the intention to draw a smile. "There is no brave front," he counters, picking up his cider and sighing, wiping the frown off his face. The cup is raise. "To new and old friends."

Glug glug. "Yes, that's her. She likes to get takeout here. Or just eat here. She has a hankering for spicy food, so... and yes. Younger sister. Barely."

Aelwyn also takes a hefty sip from his drink. "Tch, spicy food. The right kind of food." The Dragoon responds, leaning against the counter once more. The previous argument about trips is slowly turning into some kind of chant. The other sith-makar growls along.

"What about Soldier? What kind of things does he enjoy?" The ruddy sith-makar asks, leaning his head on his hand. "An avid book reader?"

"That makes me happy, to hear she enjoys eating here. And of course, I am thankful of your continued visits." The toast is actually echoed a few times by other patrons, who lift their own glasses in turn. Irshya giggles. "It is a worthy toast."

"What of you Aelwyn? Are there any hatchlings of yours running around? Or siblings whom you still visit?"

Warrick lightly shrugs. "I enjoy it on occasion. But not to the... extent that Cinny does." He turns a bit to watch the chanting, and the echoed toast. Something about it makes his neutral expression crack. Warrick rubs his face, him dragging his hand down as his visage is replaced with something softer.

"... books are nice," he lightly smiles. "Though, what I like to read is rather boring to most folk. History, recent ongoings. The occasional tale of slaying something large. I tend to bookkeep on occasion."

"Tch, this one knew Soldier carried himself with the touch of the letter." Aelwyn rumbles in amusement. "Yet bookkeeping is an odd profession for a guard. Double checking fines are paid to the count?" He teases. "Or simply how many large creatures have been slain by that crossbow?"

At Irshya's question though, it was as if something simply turned off for Aelwyn. He straightens suddenly and looks at her, as if shocked; or as perhaps someone who got caught. "... No." He finally replies. "No siblings or hatchlings." He looks at his own bottle. "Just the Troupe." He takes a hefty sip from it afterwards.

"One man's boring, is another man's treasure, as they say. History is a perfectly good thing to read up on. The slaying of something large is of interest to me. Krakens? Blue Whales?"

"Troup?", she wonders of Aelwyn. "Part of a circus, were you? Were you born in Alexandros, or in Am'shere?"

"A touch of the letter, hmm? You could learn from him, then, yes?"

"Reports," Warrick points out to Aelwyn, holding a finger up. "I am very good at writing reports. Someone has to parse out all the notes that get submitted. So for a while, I got a fair number of the issues that would land on my desk, and I had to write and catalogue them. So I know a lot of the weirdness that goes on in the city."

He drinks. "... /especially/ those that destroy city blocks."

The gobber's question to Aelwyn, and the makari's subsequent reaction gets a brow to raise out of the once-guard. He glances to Irshya, then back to Aelwyn. Curious of the answer.

"I could. Mostly depends if one is willing to learn."

There's a moment of pause as he looks towards Sharkie, and briefly, just briefly shoots a glance towards Warrick. The usual relaxed poise was gone from his body.

And then one of the glasses shatters, after one of the fighters tried to demonstrate how one juggles a cup atop a knife. "Troupe, Sharkie. Looks like a circus, feels like a fresh world in town." Aelwyn responds - and he was leaning against the countertop with a slow grin on his face. "Hot and fiery, sprawling across the streets of exotic and unknown, luring in the minds who had not known, but were to find out." A click of his teeth. "And sometimes they did."

The Dragoon glances towards Irshya. "This one never told her he was of the road? Neither Alexandros, nor Am'shere?" He lets out a dismissive grunt, "Hmmh. Enough of this one." He waves a hand. "This one is more interested in how a man of Soldier's caliber found himself dealing and filing little secrets of this town. Anything tasty to drink to?"

Subtly, he slides away the scrabbled over pad of messed up letters. Completely legible in the right, very rare, circumstances.

The pool-shark frowns at the shatter of glass, stomping over to the fighters to grouse at them, hands on her hips. A broom and dustpan is acquired, and the Goblin gets the 'don't quit your day job' juggler to sweep up every piece of glass. The group is markedly quieter after that.

"Ah, destruction of whole city blocks, that must have been fun to deal with.", the Gobbo says to Warrick with a cheeky grin, the sarcasm practically dripping from her sentence.

"Born on the road? I do not recall you telling me that." Irshya giggles at the Ruddy-scale Sith. "Okay, okay, we'll take you off the grill, and put Warrick back on it."

Warrick flinches from the glass breaking, him looking over his shoulder briefly, only to return to find Aelwyn back on his usual demeanor. "And then you left this Troupe? Sounds like you speak highly of them, I can't imagine why you'd leave something that sounds right up your alley," he points out.

He looks to Irhsya, then back to Aelwyn. "I figured you weren't. Missing some phrases that the Mictlanites use." He blinks. Sips. Sets the cup down. "I am not at liberty to disclose what information is contained in said reports. Who, where, and when. But..." he looks up to the ceiling. "... there was one report that landed on my desk about a trash druid going around and releasing rats into the sewers. It was apparently difficult to apprehend them because no one could tell which of the rats they were. Because they kept turning into a rat. They were never caught."

He stares at Irshya. "... some adventurer thought it best to turn into a bloody green dragon to deal with a foe. Of the multitude of creatures of this realm, they chose the largest, most destructive thing," he says, finishing his cider with a heavy thud back onto the bar. "It was so. Much. Fun," he says, deadpan.

"Of the road, yes. Where there, maybe on the road." Aelwyn clicks his teeth and leans his head on his hand, falling into thought for a moment. At Warrick's question though, his orange eyes slide over. "A flame cannot be contained. And this one has a desire that the Troupe did not." He replies.

Meanwhile, as the stories begin, he moves to pick up a second bottle for himself. "If this one was tasked to clean the sewers, this one would also turn to a rat and never be seen again." He grumbles and was just about ready to put down the selection for Warrick when the other man slaps his drink down.

"A dragon? They turned into a dragon?" The draconian asks in awe. Actual, genuine awe. The bottle is carefully laid down for Warrick. "What happened?"

"Destroyed a city block, I expect, from Warrick's demeanor in the telling.", the Goblin says in reply to Aelwyn. She looks to Warrick then, "Sarcasm befits you.", Irshya says with a grin. She looks to the Ruddy-scale a moment, and then back to Warrick. "Another cider?", she asks. "This one is on the house. Too."

A snort then, and a nod. "Indeed!", the pool-shark says loudly, "I think I would run off too, never to be found again, if I had to clean the sewers."

Warrick bobs his head in understanding with Aelwyn's reason for leaving. But, out of respect, he doesn't press about it. The offered bottle is taken, uncorked, and sipped upon. "Something about a reported demon slaying someone, before the City Wards were erected. Adventurers attempted to kill it. Attempted, with much collateral damage. That's all I can say about it. And yes. A dragon. Green one. By witness accounts, it was leveling whole buildings trying to get the fiend."

He looks to Irshya, a faint, amused smile twisting his lips. "Thanks. Job required to keep a straight face for a lot of... absurd things." He nods about the free cider. "The trick about the sewers is to purge your sense of smell with something. Like ground up mint and rosemary. Still hate going down there."

Aelwyn rumbles in agreement. "The first time this one had to go deep enough to see the dwarves underground. Why are there dwarves underground?" He lets out an rolling rmmph. The fighters are starting to file out, one carried by the large sith-makar, as the quiet of the Colosseum is starting to pick up again.

To Warrick's advice, Aelwyn pulls out a leather looking mask, smelling heavily of ginger. It has small gaps with stuck herbs on it. "Working gear." He lets a long sigh. "All this one wanted was to smell the rolling air high above, and not the dusty sand of the earth, coming ot this town." Click of his teeth, as he puts the mask away.

A grin returning on his face, he gazes over towards Warrick again. "Soldier much of a dancer?"

"I went down into the sewers once. Never again. Unless the money is so good it would be crazy to turn down. But that's a big ask, I doubt it will get to that.", the pool shark says to Warrick. "And I imagine you would be a hard man to play poker again. You could probably make a killing in the casino."

Her eyes squint as she cants her head slightly. "As for demons, one could understand, on the one hand, the urge to kill them. However... adventurer's penchant for property damage is well known."

She snorts at Aelwyn, "You and your dancing. You'd think the ladies would be lined up by now."

Warrick raises a brow at Aelwyn. "If you want to be like that with some jobs, look around the skyship docks. Sometimes they post things needing bodyguards on their ships," he suggests, offering some other employment to get away from the ground and into the skies.

He bobs his head at the leather mask, elbowing his jacket. "Got something similar in there." A glance to Irshya. "I'm not that good at lying, to be honest," Warrick admits. "Best I can do is surprise some of the Gobbers that run the casino that I know their babble and make out with a few silver profit."

He stares at Aelwyn. "I don't dance," he states, plain and simple.

Aelwyn turns his head towards Irshya. "She is saying they are not?" The draconian asks, flicking his tail behind him. "This one simply does not dance just for everyone." Actually, he probably would. Orange eyes turn towards Warrick. "A shame. This one would imagine Soldier would have creative holds and lifts." He rumbles in amusement.

At the mention of airships, he clicks his teeth. "This one has thought about it. Perhaps one day." Pouring more cider for the poor man onto his glass, as he then takes more of a sip from his own glass. "Enjoy the cards instead, then? Or more of an outdoorsman. This one could imagine Soldier standing at the edge of the city, and being content at the way how trees remain still, and the road quiet."

"You don't have to lie, though.", she says with a grin. "Just have to keep your emotions in check while the dealing and betting is going on. Easier said than done. I got kicked out of the place for a while, when I found out what playing cards taste like."

Irshya snorts. "Guess you'll have to keep dancing with me then, hmm?", she says to the Sith. "Less fire and more steam, hmm?"

Warrick cuts Aelwyn a look at the mention of dancing. Nods in appreciation for the drink, and knocks it back. Face tinged a hint of crimson now. "Not going to lie, the post on the wall of the gates was the most boring, but the most relaxing. I'll take a quiet place any time of the day. So, yes, the woods are quite nice."

Now that garners a snort from the man. "I thought eating the cards was part of the casino in Goblintown," he chuckles. "But uh, yeah, you can take my share of dancing, Miss Irshya."

Aelwyn clicks his teeth. "The quiet sort. Tch, perhaps then fire breathing is out of the cards." There's a quiet click and the draconian blows into his palm - before a fire burns out up towards his fingers. Irshya may have seen him do that few times. "Yet this one where we can drag the drinks next." He rumbles, with a sway of his tail. "A stop outside the town. This one has someone out there to look out for and the food is succulent." He asks, gesturing towards the door.

The sith-makar also keeps his tail well below the counter.

Warrick reels back slightly at the sudden flames, caught off guard. "I- uh... s... sure," he says, slightly uncertain and flat footed. "We can go out of town for that as another outing.

A long sigh escapes him. "... well..." he drinks. "There was another report where a couple of artificers strapped an engine to a cart, that lead to a chase..."